


This House Is Not A Home

by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 6x04 spec, Angst, F/M, I'm taking you all down with me, Season 6 canon divergence, if I have to be inspired and have these thoughts, sanctum - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky/pseuds/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky
Summary: As it turned out, there was a cost of admission for them to stay in Sanctum. Bellamy always knew there was a catch. He just didn't expect this.~~~~6x04 trailer-inspired one-shot. You know the scene.





	This House Is Not A Home

**Author's Note:**

> Listen guys. I know I have a million things I should be working on. 
> 
> BUT
> 
> I am SO digging this season and I could not resist doing a one-shot based on the trailer. So SPOILERS: if you haven’t seen this season or the 6x04 trailer, this is based off of that. So if you don’t want to know what’s going on in the current season, I wouldn’t read this.
> 
> That said! This is inspired by a VERY popular theory in the fandom and I got the end scene in my head and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy loves!

THIS HOUSE IS NOT A HOME

_By ChasetheWindTouchtheSky_

 

They say everything happens for a reason.

 

It's a nice thought.

 

The idea that there's an order to things - that there's a time and place and understanding of the general Universe. If you'd asked Bellamy a few years ago, he might've even agreed. The idea that there was a plan for this all. Because the alternative - the alternative the Universe was random and cruel - would be too much for anyone to bear. After everything they've been through, the end of the world, the death, the loss, the pain, he used to believe that he needed a reason for everything to happen. For that order.

 

Now, he's not sure. There's a part of him that does think it's all random, but that doesn't make him as infuriated as it used to. If random horrible things can happen, that means that there needs to be random wonderful things. He decided a while ago he was going to search for those, because the fact is, they do happen. 

 

As he sits at a bar in the Sanctum, listening to the hum of noise as people discuss their day (or, more likely,  _them_  sitting at a table in the corner), he realizes that this may be one of these random wonderful moments. After the Lightbournes had agreed to let them stay, it felt like things were slotting into place. There was an underlying tension thanks to people's attitude towards Clarke and the exile of Diyoza, but everything was settling into something some people would describe as normal. It was the evening, they were in washed clothes that felt softer than anything Bellamy had ever put on, there was a drink in his hand, and no one was trying to kill them.

 

Wonderful.

 

Murphy flicks his fingers at someone and they refill his glass, causing Bellamy to eye him with concern. An emotion most people felt about Murphy, these day. In fact, Bellamy couldn't look at the man without feeling a rush of shame, despite knowing logically he would never do anything that on purpose. But he feels it all the same. It seemed unfair that after vowing to be better - to spill no blood - they settled on a planet that heightened the worst parts of themselves.

 

Bellamy clears his throat. "If you drink them out of their supply, they may rethink us staying here." Bellamy says, trying to play it off as a joking and missing the mark entirely.

 

Murphy lifts a brow, takes a swig, gives him the middle finger, not particularly in that order. Mainly because Murphy's all over the place and everything seems independent and all together all at once. Bellamy isn't sure quite how that can be, but he uses the excuse that 'it's Murphy' and it settles him.

 

Emori has a hand on his back, tentatively glancing around at the bar. "We should be careful. They're still trying to figure out whether they trust us or not."

 

"I'm sure Jordan gave them a lot of reasons for them not to," Murphy mutters.

 

Bellamy isn't entirely sure what happened while he was gone, but knows enough to be weary of the fact that the Lightbournes know more about them than Bellamy every cared for them to. He's curious what version of the story Jordan told them - what version Monty and Harper shared. There was a part of him that wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, as if their opinions of the events on earth weren't his to know in the grand scheme of things. "He didn't know, Murphy." Miller grumbles. "It's not like he's had a lot of experience with what people are really like. Monty and Harper were saints."

 

"Yeah well," Murphy grumbles. "Another thing to be pissed about."

 

"What?"

 

"Won't see them when I die either? Saints don't go to hell."

 

With that, the conversation dies.

 

Bellamy gives Jordan an encouraging look before asking, "Has anyone seen Clarke today?"

 

The mood instantly shifts. He almost hesitated to ask because the animosity towards her had been out of control recently, but it was generally worrying whenever he didn't know where she was for an extended period of time. Before the end of the world, he'd be afraid she'd be throwing herself into danger for some half-stitched plan to make peace. Now?

 

Well... pretty much the same thing.

 

Some things really never change.

 

"Ever since Princess Clarke was revealed as royalty, she's been spending all her time with the Lightborns." Murphy offers, the distaste apparent in his voice.

 

"She's trying to make sure they don't go back on their promise." Miller states, his jaw tense. "And does anyone else think it's suspicious that they were kicking us out until they found out that Clarke had black blood?"

 

"They said it was because she saved that girl." Raven says.

 

"Delilah." Jordan offers absently. When everyone fixes him a look, he blushes and returns his attention to his drink.

 

"We'll make a man out of you yet," Murphy states smugly.

 

"I'm twenty-seven."

 

"In emotional years, you toddler."

 

"Let's focus," Bellamy says with a chuckle, shifting in his seat uncomfortably as the stitches that Abby put in his leg start to pull. He downs the rest of his drink without really thinking about it, wishing it'd do something for the pain. "Miller, have you heard something that makes you think that there's something else going on?"

 

"No, I just have this feeling." Miller says with a scowl. "That... something's not right here. An instinct."

 

"And somehow your instincts didn't tell you that Octavia was a sociopathic dictator." Raven mutters under her breath.

 

"Okay enough!" Bellamy snaps. "We keep on saying that this moon is our new life - our second chance. We need to stop bringing our old life here. It's  _enough_."

 

He knows that he can say it all he wants, but no one's really going to listen. No one even has the decency to look as though they feel even the slightest bit of regret, so Bellamy moves forward. "Where was she today?"

 

Raven sighs. "I saw her talking with them over by the other bar. The one that's a little louder, music and stuff."

 

Murphy makes a face. "Is that why you wanted to go to this one so badly?"

 

Raven's silence speaks for itself.

 

"Nice."

 

"You  _guys,_ " Bellamy urges. "Let's focus. The bar on the other side of Sanctum?"

 

"Yeah, the one by the Palace."

 

Bellamy frowns. "She's there by herself? Or with the Lightbournes--"

 

"Dude,  _let it go._ " Murphy says. "Clarke literally survived by herself on earth for six years. She can take care of herself."

 

It's funny how everything changes the moment the worlds are out of his mouth. It's like the reality over everything shifts and Murphy finally looks down. Bellamy choose this quiet moment to say, "I don't like the idea of her with them by herself. I'm with Miller - if they know everything about us and were planning on kicking us out because of our past, this is suspicious. It makes no sense that one incident could have changed their minds."

 

"Why not?" Jordan asks. "They saw Clarke was nice and they realized we all could be nice." He shrugs.

 

Bellamy sometimes wishes he could have Jordan's sense of decency of mankind. A few people huff and Bellamy catches Miller's eye and the man smiles to himself. "You're right, it could be a possibility," Bellamy starts cautiously.

 

"Bellamy--"

 

"But most likely not. I would feel better if we knew where everyone was."

 

"You're probably right," Murphy says, hoisting himself out of his chair with a groan. "Plus, it's always good to know where Clarke is. It's safer to know where the tornado is coming from so you can find shelter." Bellamy throws him a sharp look and Murphy puts his hands up. "Oh please, that one was a joke."

 

Despite everyone's grumblings, they actually follow him out of the bar. Honestly, Bellamy expected a few of them to stay - to say that Clarke was fine and they had no intention of making sure she was alright - but they all follow anyway. Even without barbs. Bellamy thinks it's a start, that things may actually heal between the group. He'd been considering for a while speaking with them, telling them all sides of the story, but he genuinely didn't think they were at a place where they could hear it. There was no point trying to defend Clarke on deaf ears, especially if his insistence would only make matters worse.

 

The suns are setting, painting the world with the kind of vibrancy he thought he'd only see in books. Sure, the earth had a time where it was beautiful, but it was marred with such pain and darkness, that he couldn't see it as anything else. But Sanctum was nothing  _but_  color - it screamed beauty and sanctuary. Even the way the setting sunlight hit the skin of his companions, he marveled at how it made them glow. 

 

The bar Raven had referred to was a few buildings away from the palace. Enough so that the two were separate, but not far enough to where you couldn't see it through a window. It looked like the other buildings in the Sanctum, the only difference being a sign posted above it branding it for what it was. It was the only place in Sanctum that was called anything, to Bellamy's knowledge, as if this particular place needed to be separated from everything else.

 

Although, the most interesting thing about it in this moment wasn't the sign or the way the colored windows glinted in the sunlight. It was the fact that none other than Abby Griffin is walking toward the bar as well. Bellamy frowns at this, trying to walk as quickly as he can while putting as much weight on his cane. Abby notices them approaching and crosses her arms. "You know, I believe I told you that you'd need to rest that."

 

Bellamy smirks at her. "You know I've never really be one to listen to you."

 

"You and everyone else in the world," Abby says with a heavy sigh, but he can tell that it's playful. "What brings you guys here?"

 

Bellamy glances at everyone. He doesn't want to startle the woman, but keeping their intentions away from Abby seems like a bad call. "We heard Clarke was going to be here with the Lightbournes, so we thought we'd lend a hand." At that, Abby startles, for a reason, Bellamy isn't sure of. "What?"

 

"I'm here because Clarke had mentioned it to me and was concerned about the meeting." Abby says with a frown. "How did you hear about it?"

 

Someone starts to speak, but Bellamy cuts them off. "Wait - what do you mean that she thought it was a bad call? What did she say to you?"

 

For a moment, Bellamy can't help the pang of jealousy that he feels that he wasn't Clarke's first choice for that information. A smile reaches Abby's lips and she says, "She was looking for you initially. She actually was trying to find you and when she couldn't, she told me instead."

 

Bellamy knows he should feel foolish, but he can't bring himself to do so. "What did she say?"

 

"Only that she received an invitation to this part here tonight, with explicit instructions there were no guests allowed."

 

"And she thought that was a good idea?"

 

"Obviously not, as she asked me to stop by regardless." Abby says. "I appreciate you guys being here, though, it's nice to have backup. I understand their rules, but it's hard to remain calm when you're always at a numbers disadvantage."

 

Bellamy understands what she means, but he knows Abby may be the only person around him that he doesn't have to explain for the tenth time that they have to follow the rules. Bellamy opens his mouth to say something comforting, but finds he's having a hard time feeling comforted himself. Instead, he nods at her and moves forward, pushing open the doors of the bar.

 

The noise hits him all at once. 

 

Bellamy isn't sure what to do with it - everything is just so  _loud_. He'd experienced loud, the bright lights and sounds of mortar shells raining down on him. But this was a different kind of noise - it's a noise that made him tense but also stare all at once. He could feel the beating of the music in his chest as if it were his own heart beat, reminding him of all the times he heard gunshots until it became normal. He knows logically reacting to music like this isn't the healthiest, but he isn't sure what else to do.

 

The group of them make their way through the dance floor, passing by those who are swaying to the music as if they've never known war. Perhaps they haven't. Bellamy wouldn't consider himself a jealous person, but he does feel slightly frustrated having not known that luxury. People stare as they pass, which is expected. What isn't expected is how much the mood of the bar shifts. Sure, Bellamy expected people to notice them, but they were dressed in their clothes.

 

It didn't matter. People all but stopped dancing until the group landed at the bar. Seating himself in one of the vacant seats, Bellamy tries not to wince at the relief it is on his leg. It doesn't get past Abby, who sighs. "Hey there," Bellamy say, waving the bartender over. The man startles, but to his credit, only pauses for a moment before reaching them. 

 

The man puts a few napkins in front of them. "Anything in particular I can get you?"

 

Murphy leans forward. "One--"

 

"Actually, perhaps you can help us with some information." Bellamy speaks over him. "We're looking for a friend of ours - her name's Clarke. She has short, blonde hair, and--"

 

"Murder in her eyes," Raven mutters.

 

Abby's jaw clenches at that.

 

"-- _and_  we were told she came here." Bellamy speaks over Raven.

 

The man laughs. "Of course I know who you're talking about. When a group of strangers from earth land on your planet, you figure out which is which pretty quickly. Clarke - the girl with the black blood and the one who's been speaking with the Lightbournes. Yeah, she was here a while ago, but they left."

 

"Left?" Abby repeats. "Where did they go?"

 

"Do you ask everyone who leaves your ship where they're going?"

 

Bellamy wants to look at him like he's an idiot and say ' _Obviously,'_ but he settles on just looking at him like he's an idiot. "Was she alone or still with the Lightbournes?"

 

That's when the man's demeanor shifts. "Why do you want to know?"

 

"Because we don't know where one of our people are and we take that shit seriously!" Murphy exclaims.

 

Bellamy blinks, surprised.

 

"Listen, I don't know where they went. I didn't keep tabs on her." The bartender states. "So either order a drink, or get out of the way."

 

"Clearly you missed the memo that you're supposed to be consistently nice to us." Murphy says with a groan, hauling himself out of the seat he'd situated in. "It's very rude."

 

"Rude would be banning you from the bar. Instead I'm just kindly asking you to leave."

 

"Come on Murphy, let's go." Emori says before anything can escalate, which Bellamy's appreciative of.

 

Except he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't have information, he doesn't know the land enough to explore, and he's with people who are less than eager to go on an expedition in the middle of the night.

 

Fortunately he doesn't have to when someone pokes their head at them. "You're looking for Clarke?"

 

They hesitate. "Yes?"

 

"They went that way," the woman states, sloshing her drink. Bellamy smell the scent of alcohol on her breath from where he is. "In the back."

 

"Because everything good happens in a secret room in the back," Murphy mutters.

 

Miller exchanges a concerned look with Bellamy, the first to join him as they move forward. "As much as I hate to say these words, Murphy is right. Something's not right."

 

"Yeah," he says quietly. "It's always something, right?"

 

Miller chokes out a laugh. "One of these days, man, I'm finally going to learnt to surf. And it will be over for you clowns. Just me, a board, and the waves. And, well, Jackson too."

 

Bellamy can't help but chuckle. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

 

"It's what you gotta do. You gotta set a goal, know you won't reach it soon, but let it give you hope." Miller says quietly. "It's how you get through it."

 

Bellamy knows what he's referring to, but chooses not to say anything further. He isn't sure he could discuss the occurrences of their final time on the ground, particularly with Octavia so intertwined in the story.

 

They reach a wall.

 

Not like something to climb over, but an actual wall. A wall with boards and furniture piled against it as if it was nothing more than a stock room. "You've got to be kidding me," Bellamy breathes.

 

"Well, the woman was plastered." Miller sighs. "I doubt she knew Clarke from any other blonde in the room."

 

Emori makes a noise, pushing her way to the front. "You know what your guys' issue is?" She asks, crossing her arms.

 

She waits for them to respond, but everyone simply stares. Finally, Jordan says, "No, what is it?"

 

Even Emori breaks for the man, a smile peeking through. "That you all are idiots."

 

"Excuse me?" Raven asks.

 

"Sure, you're strategic. You can win a war, fly a plane, survive on a planet you've never been on. But you have no common sense. And you think like space monkeys." Emori turns around where a collection of boards are nailed to the wall. She runs her fingers over them, pausing at one. Yanking it up, Emori steps back as a piece of the wall recedes and swings open. Turning around, she smiles. "You've never had to hide things from people in case they might steal it. The hinges are over there. This is an embarrassing excuse for a trick door."

 

With that, she turns around and marches down the hallway.

 

"Dude," Miller says. "Remind me not to piss her off."

 

Murphy smirks, stepping forward and patting his chest. "Oh, you have no idea."

 

Miller makes a face. "Why do you have to say it like that?"

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes before following the two forward.

 

The tunnel is dark, but not without light. There's a warm, orange light filtering through the area. Bellamy flinches when he hears some voices further down the hallway. It's as if the warmth from the light is sucked from the air, leaving them with nothing more than a stale, wet chamber with no room to breathe. 

 

"Oh my god."

 

When he hears Emori's voice from the end of the tunnel, he moves quicker than he supposes he should, the pain in his leg reminding him why it's a bad idea. He does it nonetheless. When he reaches the end of the tunnel, he all but stops.

 

They're surrounded by skeletons.

 

Skeletons with blood still caked on their bones, skeletons with broken ribs and missing femurs. It smells like death and dirt. Abby reaches where Bellamy is, her expression aghast. "What is this place?" She asks quietly.

 

"Are they real?" Bellamy asks.

 

Abby walks up to one of the skeletons, peering around the bones. "Yes." She says after a moment. "These are human remains."

 

Even though Bellamy knew the chances were high for that to be the case, it still makes him sick to his stomach. As much as he wants to sprint through this cavern and find Clarke, the rational part of his brain makes him say, "Okay, every one. Eyes--"

 

"Sharp?" Miller sighs. "Just like old times."

 

"We do not attack first, though." Bellamy states. "Move quietly. Explore the area."

 

"Don't become one of the skeletons, got it." Murphy mutters. "Gotta admit, between this and Hell, I can't decide which I'd prefer."

 

They move through the rows of skeletons, illuminated by small candles littering the area. It doesn't help Bellamy's fears as they move through the shadows, as quiet as possible.

 

A figure sits in a chair in the center of the room, shoulders slumped and arms hanging. Their head lolls to the side, the edge of their silk dress falling past a pair of disjointed knees. When it hits Bellamy who the figure is, panic rushes through him.

 

"Clarke!" He shouts, throwing his own rule out the window. Sprint over to where she is, Bellamy startles when two figures move out of the shadows. "Shield." Simone says and the area crackles.

 

Raven rushes over and grabs Bellamy's arm. "Bellamy, no! We don't know what it's made of!"

 

She stops him just in time, knocking a candle towards the shield. It does nothing more than fizzle and bounce back.

 

"I told you, darling, we would have some visitors." Russel says, moving into the light.

 

"What have you done to her?" Bellamy bellows, moving as close to the shield as he can. He can feel its heat against his skin. He wonders absently what would happen if he walked through it, test or not.

 

Clarke doesn't move. She stares off into space, expression blank. Empty.

 

Except her eyes. Her eyes dart around to where they are, locking on the group of them.

 

"It's the paralytic drug," Bellamy says. "She can't move."

 

"You've learned a lot about our world in your time here." Russel states, moving closer to Clarke. "More than I would've hoped. I knew sending you outside of the barrier was a bad idea."

 

He runs his finger down the chair close to Clarke's head, her eyes moving toward him as her body remains still. "Don't you dare touch her!" Abby shouts, joining where Bellamy is.

 

"Unfortunately, for what we're about to do, that is a necessity."

 

Simone steps forward, revealing a knife from the folds of her cloak. "As my husband pointed out, we have traditions. We lost our host tonight. But we didn't realize another had landed into our yard."

 

"Host?" Bellamy exclaims. "What the hell are you talking about - get away from her!"

 

"You see, regular blood cannot handle the ritual. Just like regular blood cannot handle a lot of things. Radiation, among them. In our world, the black blood means royalty because it means we can do what others cannot." Russel states, his hands filled with bones that he starts to place around Clarke. A femur by her leg. A pelvic bone under her chair. Toe bones splayed out by her bare feet as if to make an extension of her own. Finally, he brings the skull. He handles it with care, holding it in his arms and staring at it as if it were something precious. After one last look, he sets it Clarke's lap and nods to his wife.

 

"You see, there was a great tragedy years ago. A massacre from a camp of people who were just trying to learn more about the planet. My beautiful daughter Josephine was lost that day." His fingers lift from the skull. "I remember the look in her face before she died. The fear. The panic. Betrayed by someone she loved."

 

Russel lowers his gaze. 

 

"We've been trying to get her back, finding the right host who could handle the transformation." Simone says, moving toward Clarke. She grabs one of Clarke's arms and brings the knife to her skin, running it down her forearm as a trail of black blood springs from the touch.

 

"No!" Bellamy shouts, slamming his hand against the shield. He fully expects the sting of electricity or burn of radiation, but neither come. "Stop!"

 

"I wish we could," Simone states, tucking Clarke's arm - now wet with streams of black blood - onto her lap next to the skull. "We don't care for this part of our traditions. But, as with everything, there is sacrifice."

 

When she moves to the next arm, more people join him at the shield. "What the fuck is wrong with you guys!" Murphy exclaims, eyes wide. "You said you'd let us stay!"

 

"Then consider this the price of admission." Simone states, running the blade down Clarke's other arm and tucking it into her lap with the same amount of care as the first.

 

Before anyone can say another word, Clarke's blood drips to the floor. And again.

 

Except it doesn't make any sense. Because blood starts to coat the bones around her, turning as black as a Universe with no stars. There's a sound like the rustling of bells and then no sound at all. The floor continues to be coated with black blood, seemingly swallowing it whole, taking everything with it.

 

The candles go out.

 

They're plunged in a world with no senses, all noise and sight gone. Bellamy reaches out in front of him and feels nothing - opens his mouth to yell and  _hears nothing_. 

 

What feels like hours pass and when everything returns everything is too loud and too bright. Bellamy places his hands in front of himself to catch himself from falling, but he reaches to nothing. The shield is no longer there.

 

It's just them, the Lightbournes, and the skeletons.

 

When he regains his bearings, Bellamy rushes over to where Clarke sits, skull still in her lap and eyes blank. Before he reaches her, she blinks, head moving forward slowly. When she sits up, it's as if everything stops. Clarke lifts the skull in front of her, her arms now stained in black. She eyes it, her face scrunching up.

 

"That is so gross."

 

Bellamy doesn't know what to do.

 

He knows he should feel elated that she's speaking - that she's slowly standing up - but there's something... off. Firstly, Clarke would never say anything like that, especially to a skeleton. There's also a fluidity to the way she moves that doesn't seem Clarke-like. Clarke moves like a force, but the way a hurricane is a force. She never moved like the wind rolling across the land.

 

Clarke looks around at everyone and her expression melts.  _"Mom."_  She breathes.

 

Abby steps forward. "Clarke--"

 

The woman puts her hands out, but then freezes when Clarke  _runs to Simone_.

 

Bellamy looks at the group around him, each expression as puzzled as the last. Simone wraps Clarke in a hug, her face breaking into a softness that Bellamy's never seen. "Oh my god," the woman chokes, running her hands down the back of Clarke's hair. "You're here. You're really here."

 

"Dad," Clarke states, reaching out to Russel.

 

"Josephine." 

 

When Russel says it, someone gasps. Bellamy isn't sure who, hell, it may have been him. But someone gasps as Clarke embraces the Lightbournes, wrapping her arms around their necks and squeezing.

 

_"What. Did. You. Do."_

 

The words are icy, sharp like a blade. They drip with venom as Abby steps forward, her eyes blazing. "What the hell did you do to my daughter?" She shouts, tears stinging in her eyes.

 

It's only then when Clarke pulls away from the Lightbournes. She looks at the group of them, puzzled, then down at her hands. She brings them in front of her and frowns, then patting herself down. "Wait," Clarke states. "Wait, what is going on?"

 

"Josephine, remain calm." Russel states, putting his hands up. "Let me explain."

 

Clarke paces her hands on her face, eyes widening more as she does so. "What did you  _do?_ " She cries. "What did you do!"

 

"We did what we had to do." Simone says. "For our people. The woman whose body your in understands that better than anyone."

 

"Go to hell!" Bellamy shouts, feeling a flash of anger than he cannot contain. It paralyzes him as if they shot him with the drug himself. "Don't you  _dare_. Don't you fucking dare!"

 

When Clarke looks at him, it's as if she had stabbed him all over again. 

 

Because the truth is, it isn't Clarke.

 

He can tell. The way she's looking at him, the way she's holding herself. It's not her. It's not her at all.

 

Clarke's lower lip trembles. "Oh my god," she says, bringing her hands out in front of her. "Oh my god." Covering her mouth, Clarke looks like she's going to be sick, her body heaving a bit, causing her to stumble back into the bones that littered the chair. "What did you do, I didn't want this! I never asked for this!"

 

"We did what we had to do to get you back. We needed to bring you back. It is only what's fair."

 

 _"You_  did this to me!" Clarke shouts at Russel, her eyes filling with tears.

 

Bellamy takes a step back.

 

"So it was you." Murphy says for everyone, the disdain in his voice palpable. "You killed your own daughter and you're sacrificing people to bring her back."

 

"Yes, it's true we went through a myriad of hosts." Russel states. "Each more unstable than the last. But I could tell from Clarke the moment I saw her that she could handle it. And when she had black blood, it was as if a sign from the Universe. A sign that said--"

 

"Stay the fuck away!" Miller shouts. "You don't get to try to erase your mistakes by spilling more blood! We of all people  _know_  that!"

 

"Oh my god," Clarke says, her voice shaking, soon her body following. "Oh my god, oh my god. I can't do this, I can't handle it." Bringing her hands to the side of her face, Clarke jerks her head back and forth. "I-I can't. I can't do it."

 

"I know it's a tough adjustment but--"

 

"I feel like I'm burning. My skin is on fire!"

 

Russel pauses. "That's not how you died."

 

"I feel everything, I can hear their voices, I can hear the voices of the people in the mountain. I can feel the fire on my skin, burning me alive." Clarke states, eyes wide and tears streaming down her face. "I-I can't take it, it's too much. I can't take it. It hurts too much. It's too much."

 

Bellamy whips his head in Abby's direction and she returns it, her hand over her mouth.

 

"N-No, I don't want this, I d-don't want it. Take it back, take me back, I'm better off  _dead_!" Clarke shrieks, tucking her head into her chest. "Take it back,  _take it back!"_

 

"W-We can't!" Simone cries. "Once the ritual is done, we--"

 

"Someone make it stop!" Clarke screams. "Why do I feel like this, why does this feels like this!"

 

Then her movements stop.

 

For a brief, terrifying moment Bellamy thinks she's died.

 

It's horrible. It's a thought he never wanted to entertain again.

 

But here she is, body slumped, arms black. The air is thick.

 

Then she lifts her head up, calculated in a way Bellamy knows better than his own self. Eyes shining with tears and no longer shaking, Clarke states, "I bore it so they didn't have to."

 

The words are low. If it weren't so quiet, long away from the beats at the bar, Bellamy is certain he wouldn't have heard it. But he hears it.

 

Clarke stands up, turning to face the Lightbournes. "You should've known that I would never have wished my life on anyone. You should have known it was not something to give to a daughter."

 

"What is happening?" Simone says, turning to Russel. "What is going wrong?"

 

"I--" Before Russel can answer, Clarke lets out another shriek and drops to her knees.

 

 _"No, no, no, no."_  Clarke begs, shaking her head. "I don't want this, I don't--"

 

Russel clenches his jaw. Sucking in a breath, he lifts his head. "Shield."

 

With simply a word, the group is blown back, falling to their backs among the skeletons. By the time anyone can get to their feet, Russel kneels before Clarke and places a hand on her back. "We'll figure this out, honey. We'll figure out a way to remove Clarke's consciousness. You won't feel any of this."

 

This can't be happening. Bellamy watches, helpless, as Russel brings out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and offers them to Clarke. "In case she takes control again." With a careful movement, he snaps them around her wrists, Clarke crying as he does so. "We'll figure out a way to get rid of her. We'll make it so Clarke never was."

 

"No!" Bellamy shouts, sprinting to the shield. He slams his hand against it, the energy crackling under his palm. "You can't have her!" 

 

Somehow, he can still hear Abby cry. It's quiet, but it's broken, so it's the loudest thing in the room. "Please," she begs. "Please don't take my daughter away from me. Please."

 

"I'm sorry it had to be this way." Russel says. "But as Clarke herself said, I won't apologize for the things I do to protect my people."

 

"No!" Bellamy shouts as he pulls a sobbing Clarke to her feet. Simone flanks her other side, helping her up, the two leading them out of the room. "No, you can't have her! Bring her back!" He uselessly slams his hand against the shield a few more times, something in his hand cracking. "No," he says, the word cracking in two like a rock against a wave.

 

Clarke turns her head toward him. Her eyes are still red, there are tears, but it's  _her_. He knows it. Because he knows Clarke. She's allowing herself to be led away, but she doesn't break her gaze from him as she does so.

 

By the time they leave, Bellamy feels empty. Scraped out, worn.

 

It was supposed to be different.

 

This time was supposed to be different.

 

Everything happens for a reason... right?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know the ending is… sadder than I normally do.  
> But I’m feeling angsty lately! I couldn’t get the idea of Clarke x Josephine fighting for control out of my head, and Josephine not able to handle Clarke’s mind because of all the pain and sadness. I know… I’m a MONSTER.  
> I hope you enjoyed loves! <3 <3 <3


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